


As long as I'm here

by Eris_historia



Category: Whyborne and Griffin - Jordan L. Hawk
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13050669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eris_historia/pseuds/Eris_historia
Summary: As the team makes their way back from the necropolis to Cairo, Griffin and Christine worry about Whyborne.





	As long as I'm here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterhill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterhill/gifts).



> Inspired by Winterhill's prompt wondering how frightened Griffin and Christine were for Whyborne on their journey back from the Necropolis.
> 
> I hope that you enjoy!

Every time they hit a bump while traveling over the rough desert landscape sent a lump of fear up into Griffin's throat. While he knew that Barnett and the _shardah-iin_ had rigged up a travel conveyance for Whyborne as best as they could, it still grated on him that he couldn't do more for him. Ival was clearly delirious and in pain, if the small moans at every bump and broken words and sentences pouring from his mouth were any indication. Christine urged her camel to fall back even with Griffin's, as he was determined to stay beside Whyborne, damned whatever anyone else had to say about it. 

“How is he faring,” Christine asked in a low tone, pulling her camel as near to Griffin's as possible. Griffin saw Barnett glance over at them with a frown and a sharp look, then quickly looked away as soon as Christine turned her head in the same direction as Griffin's when he didn't respond to her query right away. Griffin knew that there were still some subjects that had not yet been discussed between Christine and Barnett, but did not feel as though it was his place to interfere in them. 

“He hasn't roused in two days, and we still have several more left before we get back to any sort of civilization,” Griffin responded, his voice low to match hers. “I'm worried about him in this heat and the fact that we haven't been able to get much water down him. I'm worried about the fever that he's developed, and the fact that he seems to almost be lost in his own mind. I can't even imagine what's in his mind right now, and I hate that I'm unable to help him. I just- I cannot lose him, Christine. I cannot.” Griffin finished this last sentence with a strained voice that sounded as though someone had punched him in the stomach and taken his breath away.

“As long as we can hold out until we get back to Cairo. He'll have a far better chance in the city to recover than he will being out here in the desert,” Christine reassured Griffin. Or as reassuring as she could sound, given the fact that her worry for Whyborne was written all over face.

“Yes, but how much longer can he hold out _for_ ,” Griffin responded.

“Honestly, I'm afraid that I do not know. I can handle field dressings and excavation injuries, but magical injuries is something that I must confess that I'm wholly unprepared to deal with. I do not even know if treating his fever the way that we have been is the correct course of action. Are we going to do more injury to him? 

“That is exactly my fear,” Griffin said. “I simply don't know. The only thing that I know for sure that has to be good for him is getting more water into him.”

“Well, we should be stopping soon for the night, so maybe we can try to get him to drink something more,” Christine said.

Christine's prediction of stopping for the night proved right within an hour as the convoy set up camp in a tight circle. Griffin, along with Barnett, quickly set up a tent for Whyborne and ushered him into it, Christine following closely behind. Once they had Whyborne set up in a corner of the tent, they began the work of changing his dressings. 

It was difficult for Griffin to look at the ruin of Whyborne's arm, but he steeled himself to the task anyway. He and Christine set to cutting off the old and putrid bandages that were wrapped around Whyborne's injured arm. The smell of the opened blisters hit them as they peeled away the bottom layer of bandages and Griffin and Christine both had to turn their heads away for a moment. 

Whyborne started to thrash about on the cot, with pained cries emerging from his mouth. As Griffin and Christine continued to treat his wounds, his cries became more urgent, interspersed with anguished words that neither one could make out. Barnett quickly came over to Whyborne's side with some medicine on a cloth that he held to Whyborne's nose, calming him after several moments of holding it under his nose. 

Griffin and Christine were able to work much quicker once they no longer had to avoid Whyborne's fists. They got the bandages quickly changed, with a salve that the _shardah-iin_ had had available to them, that they said they used to treat injuries that they received from the ghuls. They didn't know if it would even work on the type of injuries that Whyborne had suffered, but it was all that they had available.

Once they had finished changing the bandages and situated Whyborne as comfortably as they could, Griffin grabbed one of their canteens from their pile of supplies. He immediately sat down on the edge of Whyborne's cot and began the process of trying to force some water into the man laying down on the mattress. 

Griffin smoothed the unruly hair back from Whyborne's forehead in between wetting the cloth that he was wringing into Whyborne's mouth. He vaguely noticed Christine and Barnett quietly talking in the corner as he was doing so, but quite frankly, they were the last things on his mind at the moment. Some of their words floated across the small tent, however, and couldn't help but penetrate through Griffin's focus.

“-Infection could be deadly,” he heard Barnett's voice say, followed by some other words that Griffin couldn't make out.

“Ival is _not_ going to die! And I'd thank you not to insinuate that he will!” Griffin heard another voice exclaim loudly. As Christine and Barnett turned to look at him, he realized that it was himself that had spoken. Whyborne let out another small moan as Griffin's hand tightened in Whyborne's hair. He immediately released his grip on Whyborne's hair and lowered his voice. “Please do not even say anything even remotely related to Ival dying,” Griffin continued.

Christine came over and laid a hand on Griffin's shoulder, squeezing gently. “Of course,” she said. “He's going to pull through this. He's strong and he will absolutely not allow Netocris to win.” She gave Griffin's shoulder one final squeeze before leaving the tent with Barnett.

Griffin turned his attention back to Whyborne. He leaned over and gently kissed Whyborne's forehead whispering, “She's right, you know. You _will_ pull through this, Ival. Because you're one of the strongest people I've ever met, and you're far too stubborn to let some dead Egyptian queen get the best of you.” He sat back and settled in for his now-nightly ritual of watching Whyborne sleep. Nothing else would harm Whyborne as long as Griffin was there to have any say about it.


End file.
